Tales of the Almost Isolated
by ProtoChan
Summary: What would have happened if Christine chose her freedom instead of Raoul's life? And what if Erik didn't kill Raoul after, but made him stay with him in Christine's place as his personal companion? How will they change? ALW Based, will be E/R slash
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera… much to my eternal dismay**

**SPECIAL THANKS to dreamysherry whose fic, Left In Darkness, helped inspire my fic.**

A range of emotions and feelings went through the head of Christine Daae as she saw the situation in front of her as well as her realization of her role in it unfold. Raoul, her lover and fiancée stood in front of her with a lasso surrounding his neck, slowly taking away the much needed air from his lungs, forcing him to take long, heavy breaths just to get the needed substance there. Not too far from him, the Phantom of the Opera had stood, his deformity brought to light by the multiple candles in his lair, his face looking expectantly at her. Mere moments ago, the Phantom presented Christine with a near impossible choice to make: either spend the rest of her days isolated under the Opera House with him or allow him the pleasure of killing her beloved fiancée.

She thought about an eternity under the Opera House with the Phantom. She thought of her career, which would never be able to soar as much as it could in the outside world. Her lifelong dream of being Prima Donna of the world's best Opera House was in her grasp. How could she give it up? All the music lessons in the world would be pointless if there was nowhere to display the products of them. She thought of her friends, who she would never see again and all the happy occasions, all the Christmas', birthday parties, and balls that she could never go to if she were isolated floors below them. She thought of never going to her father's grave, bearing lilies, and softly singing to him again.

Then she thought of Raoul. _What would become of him if I stayed?_

She knew that Raoul loved her with all of his heart, as it explained why he risked his life to come down here in the first place. She thought of how miserable Raoul would be without Christine by his side, being left alone in the cruel society he was forced to endure on a daily basis once again, knowing no love that didn't involve his money or his title. She had seen enough of the society that Raoul had lived in during the six months that they were a couple to know that the women where he resided were vicious little vultures, more concerned with their husbands' amount of capital at any given moment than their emotional or physical state of being. She was worried that he would eventually be led to a slow and painful death of a broken heart, a fate which would outdo any death the Phantom could possibly conjure up in his brilliant mind. Could she really condemn Raoul to such an awful fate?

Having closed her eyes and releasing a few tears, her decision was made. She turned to face the Phantom, giving as much hate into her glare as she looked him in the eyes.

"Have you come to a decision, my dear?" the Phantom said, his tone sounding half sarcastic.

"…yes…yes I have" she answered.

Before she could answer, Raoul cried out from behind her, summoning all the energy that his body could spare at the moment considering his position, "Don't give yourself to him! Please don't throw your life away." He probably would have continued, if not for his immediate need to breathe.

"Quiet boy!" the Phantom yelled, and quickly turned back to face Christine, "now what is your decision Christine?"

She closed her eyes, as if trying to hide her shame as she softly spoke, her voice inaudible to Raoul but full of contempt, "Take Raoul and let me go you monster. "

The Phantom eyes widened at her answer. He was truly expecting her to release her lover at her own personal cost. How could she willingly condemn her own lover to death? Did she simply not love the boy as he thought she did? Remembering also that she was rejecting him as well, he could only wonder if the girl loved anyone. In a soft voice, nearly a whisper, he asked, "Care to explain the reasoning behind your choice young mademoiselle?"

Christine roughly responded, "I don't have to answer to you anymore." With that, she turned to face Raoul, whose face had grown paler than the last time she gazed upon it.

"Christine… save yourself…I love you…" He said through the limited breath that was entering his lungs.

"I'm sorry Raoul, I'll always love you, but this is the only fate I can bare to let you suffer. I chose my life, my freedom. Please Raoul, close your eyes and it will be over quickly, I promise."

With that, Raoul motioned Christine to come closer. "Goodbye Lotte," he whispered into her ear. "Leave now… and love life…" She quietly kissed his cheek and began to make her way onto the gondola, and out of the Phantom's lair.

As the gondola disappeared into the mist, Raoul turned to the Phantom, who had been observing the seen in front of him quietly. For several minutes, they looked at each other in near silence, glaring at each other and making sense of the situation; only the sound of Raoul's heavy breath present. Finally, Raoul broke the silence, speaking in a soft voice to reserve his air:

"Well, are you going to kill me now?"

Bluntly, the Phantom answered, "No."

Raoul raised an eyebrow for a brief second before returning to his glare. "Well then… are you going to make me just… suffer before finally killing me?" At this point, Raoul was using every ounce of energy just to talk.

"I don't think you understand Vicomte," the Phantom said as he walked towards the young man, "I'm not going to kill you. Period." With that, the Phantom released Raoul from the deadly lasso, leaving Raoul to collapse on the floor.

Raoul spent several minutes recovering his breath, and gasping for much needed air. He took in the copious amounts of oxygen surrounding him. He instinctively closed his eyes, as his complexion began the slow process of returning. While Raoul was regaining his strength, the Phantom simply looked at him, as if studying him.

After Raoul recovered his breath, he stood and looked at the Phantom, attempting to make sense of his mysterious motives by gazing into his even more mysterious golden eyes, to no avail.

"Are you releasing me?" he asked, hope filling his eyes. But that hope faded just as soon as it came as the Phantom gave his response.

"No."

The Phantom's lack of clarity was beginning to genuinely confuse and annoy Raoul. "Then what are you going to do with me?"

The Phantom smirked. "You are going to stay in my lair for eternity." Raoul looked at him in shock. He wanted to respond, but couldn't find any words to do so. The Phantom took this as an opportunity to continue. "The roles that your lover was supposed to play for me, the non-romantic ones at least, will now be bestowed on you." Raoul's glare deepened, his blood boiling.

"What?" Raoul angrily asked. "Am I to be your servant, your personal slave?"

"I wouldn't term it as that. You are to be my pupil, my protégée, and my companion. You will listen to my music, aid me in my research, and remain at my side at all times, unless I tell you otherwise."

Almost completely speechless at this response, Raoul asked the only thing he could ask:

"Why? Why would you want me to stay with you?"

"Living in isolation for nearly my entire life, I have grown quite bored and lonely. As I prepared to take the stage during Don Juan Triumphant, I at last decided that I would take the companion that I so rightly deserved tonight. I had a strong feeling that my last attempt at fairly seducing Christine towards me would be unsuccessful, and that I'd be forced to bring her to my lair. As I brought Christine to my lair, I knew that you'd be quickly following, and that one of you would be my companion by the end of the night. I put the decision as to who it would be in Christine's hands. Though I'm not entirely pleased by her choice," he said as he sneered at Raoul, "you will have to do. Beggars can't be choosers. Now come this way." The Phantom motioned at a door across the room. "I am rather tired, as I suppose you are after all of tonight's events, and require sleep."

"Monsieur Uhh Phantom," Raoul started.

"You may call me by my real name, Erik." Erik interrupted.

"Erik." Raoul corrected himself. "Don't you find this a bit unreasonable to be keeping me here as your companion? You don't seem to even enjoy my presence, and yet, you are willing to spend eternity with me?"

Erik turned to Raoul and replied "When you've been living in near isolation like I have for countless years, and you have a face like **this**," he said pointing to the spoiled skin, "you learn to not be so picky when choosing companions" Giving off an indifferent shrug, he added, "It's like I said earlier Vicomte, beggars can't be choosers." He proceeded to enter the room, with Raoul following behind him.

The room they entered was large and white, with a desk, many drawers for clothing and small possessions, and a door which Raoul assumed led to some form of a walk in closet. Candles supplied the necessary light for the room as well some small electric lights. However, what took up a fair amount of space in was the queen sized bed across the room. He looked at Erik.

"I will bring you your own bed tomorrow, but for tonight you will share mine." Erik said, as if answering the question in Raoul's mind.

"We will be sharing a room?"

"I don't put it past you to attempt an escape, as you obviously don't want to be here, so yes. And don't think about escaping in the night either, I am a very light sleeper and I **will **be awoken by the sound of the door opening or closing." With that, Erik walked towards one of the drawers and took out two outfits, tossing one to Raoul. "This will be your sleepwear. I believe we are approximately the same size. You can change in the closet if you desire privacy."

Raoul clenched his fists and teeth. "Yes, **master**," he responded as he violently grabbed a candle and walked into the darkened closet. Oh God, he felt like he was in a prison. An **eternity**? He would have happily taken the noose if he had known his alternative. As Raoul changed into his sleepwear, he made a silent vow. _I will get out of here. I will kill the Phantom. And I will get back to Christine._ As he changed outfits, he realizedErik was right. They were the same size. _Damn him_, he thought.

After changing clothing, he walked back to the bed where Erik was already laying down changed into his sleepwear. He went to the opposite side of the bed and laid down , inching himself as far away for his captor as possible, and his back facing him. Without so much as a goodnight, Raoul drifted off to sleep, praying that this would be a dream when he woke up.


	2. Chapter 2

Raoul had appeared back where he was just mere hours ago, Erik's lake being only about 50 feet from where he stood. He had attempted to make a break for it, and run towards the gondola, his one chance at freedom, when suddenly, he was grabbed behind his back by none other than his captor. Without uttering a word, Erik brought Raoul to a boardwalk- like area next to his lake. What Raoul then noticed was a whirlpool in the midst of the dark water, sucking in anything that dare cross his path. Suddenly, he felt a feeling of falling as it was clear that he was being thrown into the whirlpool of darkness by Erik, who being the madman he is, jumped in directly after. The two landed in a dark room, the only light coming from Erik's golden eyes. Then suddenly, the Punjab lasso reappeared around Raoul's neck, only this time pressed even tighter around Raoul's neck than it had been the night before. The golden orbs stalked closer and closer toward Raoul, and with every step Erik took, the lasso's grip seemed to get tighter and tighter. Raoul had been screaming as loud as he could, considering his situation and tried to escape, but was cornered down to a wall. At last Erik stopped, his face mere inches from Raoul's. Raoul had a sick feeling that Erik had an evil smirk on his face. Raoul let out one final scream before his sight faded to black.

Raoul woke from his nightmare in a huff, closing his eyes and holding his breath. He hoped that upon opening his eyes, he would see the beige walls of de Chagney manor, and not the white walls of Erik's lair. _No, _the young Vicomte thought, _there is no Erik, there is only the Phantom. _After a few moments, Raoul opened his eyes only to see exactly what he did not want to see. Surely, he **was **back in Erik's lair. His eyes opened to a white wall with a door that he very well knew led to a walk in closet. And without needing to turn around, he knew that Erik was behind him. Just then, a voice spoke up:

"Oh good, you're awake." Raoul quickly recognized the voice as that of Erik's. Raoul turned to face him. He was already dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, wearing his traditional white half-mask.

"How did you know that I—"

"I'm able to tell if someone's sleeping or not. I woke up a few times last night -a tendency that I seem to have-," he explained, "and was able to listen to your breathing and snoring patterns. Also, did you have some sort of a nightmare? At one point in your sleep, you were breathing very heavily and your body tensed up."

Remembering his horrible dream, Raoul clenched his fists, which were invisible to Erik as they were hidden under the comforter of the bed.

"And if I did?" the Vicomte sneered.

"I figured that you may want to let it out of your system. Take it from someone who knows Vicomte," he said, staring into Raoul's blue eyes, "holding in your emotions never pays off in the long run." Seeing that the Vicomte had absolutely no desire to share his nightmare, he changed the subject. "Now, come, get dressed and we will have breakfast." Erik then pointed at two drawers. "Those will be yours for personal storage. I filled some of them with clothing for you, but if you wanted to put personal items there, you are more than welcome to." Raoul nodded and went into the closet to change into his outfit, remembering to grab a candle on the way in.

Observing the clothes he was given to wear, Raoul was surprised. Erik had given him rather good clothing to wear. Granted, though it was just a simple shirt and a pair of trousers, it was far beyond the rags that Raoul would have expected his worst enemy to give to him.

Upon leaving the closet, Raoul found Erik sitting at his desk. "I assume you are hungry, just as I am. You must not have eaten since Don Juan Triumphant." Raoul prepared to protest to Erik's claim, when his intestines beat him to the answer. "I figured. Let's move to the kitchen." Erik then proceeded to leave the young Vicomte to a very ordinary looking kitchen, with a small table with a couple of chairs in the center. He motioned Raoul to sit down in one of he chairs.

"Your breakfast should take a few minutes to prepare." As Erik turned his back to Raoul and focused his efforts towards preparing food, Raoul shuddered. _He may not dress me like a prisoner, but surely, he'll work to make my dining experience as awful as possible. He's probably preparing gruel or something of the sorts right now. _He attempted to look over his shoulder and see what Erik was making, but his body blocked his vision. He was forced to wait until Erik returned to the table with his food.

For minutes, Raoul brooded over what he was about to ingest, when suddenly, he saw an arm extend a plate above his head. When the plate finally landed on his table and the arm retracted, he gazed upon the contents of the plate, not with horror, but delight. It was not holding a cheap, horrible looking gruel, but instead a delectable looking dish of Crepes Suzettes with strawberries on top, one of his favorite breakfasts. He averted his gaze to his side where he saw Erik, holding up a kettle in one hand and putting his identical breakfast down in his other. "Tea?" he asked, looking at the flabbergasted Vicomte.

"Yes, thank you." Erik proceeded to take out two mugs out of his cupboard and pour the tea, putting cream and sugar onto the table. After serving the tea, he sat down and began eating, with Raoul following.

"What do you think of it? I think I may have let the crepes sit a bit too long, but overall it's satisfactory." Though Raoul wished he could hate it, the dish was heavenly to say the least. Every bite of it was perfect, perhaps the best breakfast he's ever eaten.

"It's very good Erik. You're a great cook. Where did you learn?"

Erik smiled. _It had been so long since somebody complimented my cooking, he thought. _"A friend of mine taught me the art of French cooking years ago. She showed me strictness and precision in cooking." Erik replied, taking a sip of his tea. The conversation ended there as both men finished their breakfast in silence.

At seeing that the Vicomte had finished his meal, as he had, he stood up and put their plates in the sink, making a mental note to clean them later. He brought his attention back to the Vicomte. "Come now, we have a lot to do today." Raoul looked at him, a confused expression on his face.

"What needs to be done today?"

"I would like to give you a tour and we need to move your bed into our room," Erik smirked, "unless you'd prefer to share mine."

"No," Raoul grumbled. "That won't be necessary, thank you."

"Well than, let's begin the tour." With that, Erik led Raoul to a hallway with multiple doors, three on the left, two on the right, and one at the end of the hallway. He opened the first door on the left which led to a massive library with shelves upon shelves of books. There were a couple of armchairs and even a desk set up. Raoul gaped at the sight before him. He turned to Erik, who was smiling, beaming in the triumph that was his exceptional library.

"Where did you come across all of these books?"

"Some of them belonged to my mother, some I had come across in my travels, and some were brought to me when throughout my years here. Many of the books are one of a kind, thought to be lost to the world forever, but never missed." _Almost like me, _Erik thought. "What do you think of it?" 

"It's an incredible library. Surely it rivals some of the best libraries in all of Paris. Have you read all of these books?"

"A lot of them, yes. Some of them inspire me to write my best pieces of music. We can come back to the library later, but let's move on to the next room." Erik turned himself around, and with one last gaze at the gorgeous library, so did Raoul.

The next room they walked into was across the hallway. All it was essentially was a bathroom, but the architecture was simply stunning. Most of the room was marble, including the floors and walls. It had a very nice full bath, a toilet, and a sink. What surprised Raoul the most however was the presence of a mirror in the bathroom. He did not expect Erik to have (or to want for the matter) any thing that would show him his horrid disfigurement.

The next room was the 2nd door on the left. Erik opened the door and flipped a switch which filled the room with light through small electric lights. Erik smirked as he saw Raoul gape at the sight before him. In front of the two of them was a room filled with amazing creations, almost impossible to describe, things that Raoul would have never previously dreamed of seeing.

"This is my invention room. It's here where I conduct my scientific research and create my best creations." Raoul couldn't speak for a few seconds. He was so caught off guard with all the wondrous inventions surrounding them.

"D-did you create all these? By yourself?"

"Yes. The trash some people throw away oh so carelessly, especially here in the Opera House. Things that you would never believe could become anything special. I take them down here and make it into something beautiful and amazing. I see the potential, and in return, make something glorious of it."

Erik moved to the side, allowing room for Raoul to walk inside and explore the room. He walked towards one particular invention with two small doors and some form of a carving on the upper base of the invention. In the front of the invention there was and a black button. Raoul leaned forward and pressed it. The doors popped open and a wooden ballerina danced on the carving as a melody played. When the melody finished, the ballerina bowed and returned to where she started and the box closed. Another invention had an owl's body whose eyes glowed periodically.

Every direction he looked in he saw invention after invention of unbelievable proportions. He saw test tubes beakers and various other chemicals of all different colors. Raoul was in such a world of wonder and confusion that he didn't know what to do. He walked over to what he assumed was Erik's working area, where, along with Erik's toolbox, he saw small pieces of metal, a broken sand bag, and a used tin can. Raoul could only wonder what went through Erik's mind as he made these inventions and what the materials were to soon become.

After finally getting his fill of the invention room, he walked back to Erik, who motioned the two to head to the next room. Raoul was still dazed for a moment, but quickly got his head back together and followed. They walked to the final door on the left side of the house. Inside was a very exquisite wine cellar. The cellar extended out almost to a point where Raoul wasn't sure if he could see the end. He didn't know whether or not to blame that on the poor lighting of the room, or that the room extended so far. Finding nothing too interesting to explain or ask about the room, the pair walked out of the room.

"If we go right across this hallway," Erik started "I'll show you to the-"

"Wait, Erik," Raoul interrupted. "You forgot about this room," he finished, pointing to the door at the end of the hallway.

"Ah. All that this door leads to is countless flights of stairs which leads to a secret entrance to my lair. I use it on occasions where I do not wish to need to skulk through the busy opera House." Raoul raised an eyebrow at the possibilities that this room held for his escape, but Erik was quick to catch on this. "It locks from the inside Vicomte, so don't even try it," Erik said, smirking. Raoul glared at the floor, cursing almost inaudibly. _Damn it_, he thought.

"Now," Erik continued. "If you'll come this way, there are only a few more rooms left to show." He opened the farther door on the right.

Inside, Raoul saw what he could only believe was every instrument on the planet. Pianos, trombones, drums, violins, they were all here. This was truly any musician's paradise, and Raoul was definitely impressed. He could see a desk with papers cluttered all around it. All the while the room was very large. It made sense that this room would get so much space, rivaling only the invention room and the library in size. Than again, Raoul thought, Erik's whole home was too big. It was so much space for one man. Raoul sighed as he remembered that this home no longer just housed one man, thinking about his annoying situation. Raoul was interrupted from his thoughts when Erik began to speak.

"This is my music room, where I compose all my music, collect instruments, and embrace the beautiful world that music has to offer."

"How many instruments do you have here?" Raoul inquired

"Dozens, perhaps hundreds, but I've never been interested to count them, but rather to play them, and when they break, if they're not antiques, I bring them to the invention room to be worked around with." Erik then motioned towards the right side of the room where something square shaped lay underneath a dust protector. Removing the dust protector, Erik revealed a twin sized bed.

"I usually sleep on this when I get too exhausted to return to my room after composing, but it now will serve as your bed. It rolls, so transporting it to our room won't be as much trouble." Raoul looked at the bed. It looked comfortable enough. Erik began pushing the bed towards the door, Raoul holding it open. He felt almost bad for Erik that he was doing all the hard work on his account, but he quickly killed the thought.

_He's trapping me here. He deserves it._ He had to admit, as he saw Erik move the bed through the music room's door, that he was very strong. Deciding that despite everything, he should help Erik, he moved to his side and began pushing the bed. Eventually, they got it back to Erik's room, placing it about eight feet from Erik's bed.

"Let me show you the sitting room, and I'll get started on dinner," Erik said as they departed from their room. Raoul's eyes widened. Had so much time really passed that quickly? He looked at his watch just to confirm it, and his watch read 7:00. He knew that moving the bed took at least an hour, but he wondered just where the day went.

He followed Erik to a room by the lake. He shuddered as he reminisced on what had happened there on the previous evening. The door opened to a medium sized room, with a couch, a small bookshelf, a coffee table, and an armchair. Though the room was nothing special, it was very comforting, and reminded him a lot of home.

After that, Erik prepared an excellent roasted chicken for dinner. The two men spent the remainder of the evening in the study reading before finally heading to bed. Raoul thought to himself of the day he had as he settled into his new bed. _Erik is a truly an amazing person, one of a kind. He has so much to share, yet no one who will willingly share it with him. Maybe that's why he wanted a companion so bad I can't help but pity the man. Damn it, Raoul, you can't be growing soft on him now! You need to remember your vow. _Despite everything he told himself, he really did feel sorry for him. He started to wonder if he could really bring himself to kill or hurt him after Erik had been nothing but nice to him since he had made Raoul his companion. With a conflicted heart, Raoul fell asleep, feeling that perhaps, the answers would come in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I (sadly) don't own Phantom of the Opera. What I DO now own is a half mask charm and a Phantom music book that I got off of eBay! Yay!**

**Much credit goes to dreamsherry for Left In Darkness!**

The following morning, Raoul woke up from an admittedly much happier sleep than the one he had to endure the night before. He turned over to see Erik, who was once again, awake and fully dressed.

"What time do you wake up at exactly?" Raoul asked as he wiped his eyes and looked at his watch.

"Usually around 8:30 when all of the stagehands come in. I have sensitive hearing, so it basically serves as a wakeup call. Get dressed, for I have an incredible sound in my head that came to me in a dream last night, and I must put it to paper." Raoul began his routine of grabbing a set of clothing and a candle when Erik suddenly felt the need to interrupt him.

"The closet has electric lighting. You don't need to bring a candle in," he chimed.

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Raoul inquired, curious as to why Erik kept such a detail quiet.

"The first two times you used the closet, you were furious. I didn't feel the need to tip your temper further than it already was." Raoul nodded. He knew that if Erik had uttered another word, he would have been put over the edge, and done something stupid. He was rather grateful that Erik chose to hold his tongue.

"And what of the third time?" Raoul asked

"I simply forgot," Erik said with a shrug. Deciding to leave the conversation at that and not to press further, Raoul walked into the closet.

"The switch is on your left. Feel for it," Erik cried out. After extending his hand and feeling the walls for a few moments, he found the light switch and flipped it, filling the space with light. He saw Erik's closet full of fine suits, shoes, and cloaks of sorts. He looked to see two small wooden doors, which he prepared to open, but was interrupted by a knock on the closet door.

"Are you alright in there, Vicomte?" Erik cried out. "You've been in there for a while."

"Yes I'm fine. Just give me another minute," Raoul responded. He quickly changed into his clothing and left the closet, remembering to turn the light off. Raoul's curiosity of what was held behind the two doors had not quite faded. While having breakfast, another dish of Crepes Suzettes, Raoul decided to speak up about the manner.

"I was wondering Erik. –"

Before he had time to begin his question, they heard the indistinguishable sound of the approaching gondola in the main room. After exchanging glances at one another, the duo stood up and set off to find the source of the sound. As they arrived in the main room, they saw a tall figure in a black cloak. Approaching the figure, Erik quickly realized who it was.

"I was starting to worry about you, Madame," he started. To Raoul's amazement, the figure took off her cloak to reveal Madame Giry.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have come earlier, but things I had to keep away for a while to let things blow over," Madame Giry said.

"I understand, Madame. I'm just glad to see that you were alright after that night's events. I believe I heard cry out in pain. Did you take on an injury, Madame?"

"Not to worry Erik. It was simply a cramp," the old woman replied. Unable to think of anything to say watching the scene before him, Raoul had stayed silent up to this point. However, his shock in the situation faded soon after.

"Madame Giry?" Raoul cried

"Oh yes, this is important for you to know, Vicomte," Erik started. "Madame Giry will be able to get you anything that you need from the outside world. She usually comes down every two or three days or so to deliver food, ink, and my salary here. She also brings notes to the managers for me. She's the one who taught me to cook as well. Quite the woman she is."

"Why thank you Erik," Madame Giry said. "And you can write me a list and I will be sure to get you whatever I can."

"Wait Madame Giry, you seem to be less than surprised to see me here alive. Didn't Christine tell you I'm supposed to be dead?" As he said the last 5 words of his question, he glared at Erik, who in turn smirked at him.

"Yes, Christine told me about your supposed "death" but I was well aware of Erik's intentions," Madame Giry said. "I've known Erik for so many years, I can practically read his mind sometimes."

"But don't you find this wrong?" Raoul asked, begging that he could appeal to her sanity. Since she was so close with Erik, perhaps she could convince him to let him go. "I'm being held here against my will."

"Christine **gave **you to me," Erik said, turning towards Raoul. "As she whispered in my ear the answer to my ultimatum, she said, and I quote, "Take Raoul and let me go you monster." You entrusted your life to her and she **gave **you to me. Technically speaking, you **allowed** me to take you. You are mine, Vicomte, and more by your own choice than you originally thought." Raoul looked into Erik's eyes, hoping to find some falseness in the golden orbs, but found none.

Raoul turned to Madame Giry, "What are your thoughts on the situation, Madame?"

Madame Giry stood in silent thought for a few moments, before finally responding. "If what Erik said is true, and I highly doubt that it's not, than you do belong to Erik, Raoul." Raoul couldn't believe this. _Has the world gone mad?_

"Now," Madame Giry started, "if you'd give me your list, I should like to be on my way. I am meeting Andre and Firmin for brunch in an hour, and they would be suspicious if I were to arrive late."

"Of course, Madame." Erik turned to face Raoul, "is there anything you want me to include on my list for you?"

Raoul thought for a second. "Madame Giry, would it be possible for you to stroll by de Chagney manor and pick up a few of my belongings?"

"I could, but not for a few weeks. A lot of people are standing outside of your manor in mourning, and I do not want the possessions of a dead man to disappear just days after his "death.""

"I understand. But I do have a question for you Madame. Is Christine alright?" Raoul wanted to ask if she knew if he was alive as well, but he assumed that Madame Giry would keep it a secret.

"I advised her to take a few weeks to herself in the countryside to relax her mind and to reflect upon what's happened. Thankfully, she took my advice, and will return in approximately a month. Now I need to leave. Have a good day." Without another word, she put her cloak back on and walked towards the gondola. Rowing away, she left the two men, once again, alone.

"Let's head to the music room at once!" Erik exclaimed "I fear that I am losing my memory of the melody I heard and must put it to paper immediately." He practically sprinted to the room in question, with Raoul following steadily behind. Upon reaching the music room, Erik sat at the piano bench, while Raoul took a chair from the desk and turned it towards the piano.

Raoul observed Erik as he recited is thoughts onto the piano. The melody he played was simply beautiful. Raoul could clearly hear Erik's heart and soul being put into every note he played on the piano. _So this is Erik in his element_, he thought as Erik graced the ivory keys of the piano with his fingers. _How amazing, a true genius. _Every time that Erik would pause to write down the notes of the melody, the soft smile on Raoul's face would drop a little. It was hypnotizing to say the least.

When Erik finished arranging his melody, he decided to play another. Raoul took the opportunity to explore the music room in its entirety. He felt the smooth surfaces of the drums and the cool metal of the brass instruments. However, what caught Raoul's interest the most was a small violin in the corner of the room, or the bottom shelf. It was clearly well over 50 years old and appeared to be working. Not having picked up a violin in years, Raoul's interest was clearly piqued. Raoul picked it up, and softly, started to play along in harmony with Erik, creating an enchanting melody between the two. Raoul felt such joy as he let his fingers work the violin, giving his thoughts into the music. He wondered if this was the same joy that Erik felt when he surrounded himself in his music. Raoul had become so engrossed in the music and his instrument that he had failed to notice that Erik had stopped playing and was walking over to Raoul. Erik simply stood behind him and gazed at the sight of the Vicomte playing. He had never expected that the Vicomte had any musical talent. Though he was far from professional, he was indeed very good.

When at last, Raoul stopped playing, he smiled, admiring the instrument and the sound that he had made, still failing to notice Erik's presence.

"That was very good." Erik said. Raoul jumped in surprise, his fingers clutching onto the violin tighter. He had obviously not expected Erik to have heard him play. "You went a little sharp, but overall, it was good. Where did you learn to play the violin so well?"

Raoul turned to Erik, blushing a bit from his jump earlier. "Monsieur Daee taught me when I was just a little boy." Raoul thought back in fondness to his violin lessons with Monsieur Daee. He had to have been only seven or eight years old when he had learned the violin. The lessons were some of the best moments of his childhood, some of the only where he did not have to meet anyone's expectations but his own. Perhaps that's why he loved the instrument so much.

"You seemed a little out of practice, though."

"That is because I only had two years of lessons before my father pulled me out of lessons. He worried that I would become a musician and disgrace the family name." He thought bitterly to the day that his father told him that he would stop going to Monsieur Daee's lessons. "I tried to argue, but my parents would have none of it. They locked me in my room for days and forced me to take etiquette lessons, feeling that it would be more proper for a Vicomte to know, until the thoughts of the violin were almost completely eradicated from my head."

"That is a shame. No child should ever be deprived of music, to hell with social customs. You have much potential, but your years out of practice have made you a bit stale and you could be better. Would you like me to perhaps give you violin lessons?"

After a moment's hesitation, thinking about everything that Erik had to offer him, Raoul said, "yes. Yes, I would like that very much."

"Good, then let's begin." Erik grabbed another violin and took a seat at the piano bench facing Raoul who was sitting on his desk chair.

For the remainder of the day, Erik and Raoul went over basic skills with the violin. Erik was impressed with Raoul's focus and improvement over the course of the day. He had never expected it from the boy. As for Raoul, he had never expected Erik to have been such a great teacher. He was well rounded, patient, and would explain anything that he did not understand. He was beginning to understand why Christine loved having him as a music teacher and how she got so good.

By the time they finally wrapped up their lesson, it was 8:45 according to Raoul's watch. The two men went to the kitchen for dinner, only to find their half eaten breakfasts still on the table. Not wanting to cook at this hour, they decided to simply heat up their unfinished food. "Why let good meals go to waste?" were Raoul's exact words. After spending a couple of hours in the sitting room, they headed back to their bedroom.

As Raoul changed into his sleepwear, the question as to way lay behind the two small doors still plagued Raoul. Though he had failed to ask Erik a first time due to Madame Giry's sudden appearance, he felt that he should try again. As he walked out of the closet and into his bed, he looked at Erik, who was reading a book.

"In your closet," he started, as Erik focused his gaze towards him, "there were two doors. What's behing them?"

Looking down, Erik replied, "I keep my masks there."

Raoul eyes softened at hearing this confession. It seemed like it was such a hard thing for Erik to do. Raoul truly sympathized with the man in front of him. Having to hide your face, your whole life behind a mask, it must have been torture. He looked to Erik, who looked like he was about to burst out into tears. He felt sorry for him. He was an overall good man who hardly deserved the hatred he got. He knew from his life as a Vicomte that people **would **be cruel enough to judge one by their face, but he had known better than to buy into it. He wanted to tell Erik that it was alright, that he didn't have to hide his face from him, and that he wasn't afraid. All those facts were true. He just wondered if he could, if he had the courage to say that to him. _Well,_ Raoul thought. _Only one way to find out._

"Erik," Raoul started as Erik looked to face him. "I want you to know that you don't have to wear your mask around me if you don't want to. I'm not afraid of your face."

_Could he really mean that?_ Erik thought. _Could he really be willing to accept looking at a face like mine all the time without fear or disgust?_ Finally deciding to answer Raoul, who was still looking at him, he replied, "I know that now," he smiled. "Thank you Vicomte."

"Erik," Raoul asked

"Yes?"

"Call me Raoul." For as long as he'd been staying with Erik, he'd noticed that Erik had not called him by his real name once. He was certain that he knew it, as Christine had cried it out multiple times in his presence.

"Thank you **Raoul**," Erik said, still smiling. With a new peace existing in their hearts, the two fell asleep.

**A/N: Don't worry, it won't continue to be day by day like this, otherwise I'll be writing this forever. Please Read and Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Erik gently opened his eyes to the faint sound of walking shoes and talk above him, a sound that while his nearby companion could not hear, it was as clear as day to him. He looked over to his companion with a face of observation. He was sleeping peacefully with a relaxed look on his face. He gazed at the Vicomte for a few moments, almost not wanting to look away for a reason that he could not find. His blond hair practically shone in the light of the room.

Finally, he forced himself to walk away and turn to the calendar on his desk. Gazing upon the date on the large calendar, he saw a message from himself regarding the significance of the date. He wondered how he didn't notice the message prior to this and planned accordingly. _Oh well, _he thought. He looked towards Raoul, and then back to the calendar. _This should be interesting, _he thought, as he promptly proceeded to get dressed.

Raoul got up soon after. Without Erik saying a word to him, he got dressed and the two headed towards the kitchen. Raoul turned towards Erik's masked face, trying to figure out his thoughts as Erik looked ahead. Despite Raoul telling Erik that it wasn't necessary to continue wearing the mask, Erik had insisted on keeping it on, his explanation simply being "various reasons." He assumed that one of those reasons was some sort of insecurity that Erik still held towards him, but decided not to argue.

As the two sat down at the kitchen table, Raoul still pondered Erik's silence. Usually, the two would converse in the morning in some form, but today seemed to be different. As Raoul took the first few bites of his breakfast, Erik finally spoke.

"Raoul," Raoul instantly looked up, curious to know what Erik was going to say. "The Opera Populaire is hosting their production of _La Buona Figiuola _tonight. Would you like to go see it tonight with me?"

Raoul gave Erik a confused look. "It's only been two weeks since _Don Juan Triumphant_. Why would they put another show on in so little time?"

"Andre and Firmin only thought that _Don Juan Triumphant _was going to last one night, as a means of capturing me," he said as his golden eyes stared at Raoul, showing his knowledge in Raoul's involvement in his attempted capture, "so they rehearsed for another show simultaneously in hopes that the ordeal could pass by quickly if they act like it didn't happen. I suppose that they are attempting to do the same with the death of Piangi. With that being said, would you like to go?"

After a second's hesitation, Raoul smiled. "Yes, I would like to attend."

"Good," Erik said, returning Raoul's smile. "We shall leave at 1:30."

Raoul's confusion instantly returned. "Why so early? If I'm correct, most to all Opera's in the Populaire don't start until 7:00."

"Yes, but the stagehands and actors all come at 2:00. I don't want us to be spotted, so we will need to be in our seating area before they arrive." Though Raoul was still confused, he nodded in agreement. He was simply happy to be going to the see an opera.

He was also excited to be going somewhere besides Erik's seemingly endless home. It wasn't that he did not like his home. On the contrary, over the ten days that he had been staying here, he found himself growing fonder and fonder of the place, finding every room to be either a marvel of architecture, or a place of wonder. Most of the time that he'd spent in Erik's home had been with in the music room with Erik practicing the violin. Erik had made each day's lessons longer and longer, starting after breakfast, and ending just before dinner. Raoul, however, didn't care in the slightest. He loved playing the violin and yearned to get better, no matter the cost.

They did not just play the violin, however. One day, they spent the afternoon in the library. While Erik dusted off his large collection, occasionally showing his recommended titles to Raoul, Raoul looked around at the various books in various foreign languages. Another day was spent in the invention room, where as Erik tinkered with what seemed like random materials, Raoul helped him out as an assistant.

After breakfast, the two proceeded to the music room for violin practice. For a few hours, Erik showed Raoul more techniques. Lost in the music, Erik nearly lost track of time. He glanced at the large grandfather clock, as it chimed at reaching the hour of 1:00.

"Work on your scales for 10 minutes," He said, standing up from the piano bench. "When you are finished, go to our room. There is a suit for you in your drawers. Change into it and meet me in the main room by the lake."

"Where are you going?" Raoul inquired a quizzical look on his face.

"I'm going to get some things for tonight and get the gondola." With that, he left Raoul for the first time in 10 days alone in the big music room. As much as Raoul hated to admit it, without Erik, the large music room became very empty, even a little lonely. He tried to play it off with his scales, but even the instrument he had come to love had lost some of its charm in Erik's absence. He could hardly believe that he was actually missing Erik. Raoul scoffed as he walked towards their room to change into his suit.

_Yes, _Raoul sarcastically thought, _I miss my captor. _Then he felt a small voice inside of him saying _He's also your friend._ He sighed. He knew that the voice's statement was fact. Erik had indeed become Raoul's friend in the 10 days they spent together. He was starting to become more and more reluctant to fulfill his vow to kill Erik. Could he really find it in his heart to kill the man?

Raoul changed into a black suit with a white shirt. He headed towards the main room to locate his companion. He found Erik standing by the gondola. He was wearing in a black tuxedo with a white shirt, a white bowtie and a cape. Raoul was surprised by how good Erik looked in the tuxedo. He couldn't help but lose focus gaze at the man's physique momentarily. Erik was extremely well built as the tuxedo generously showed and the way he stood made him look like a godly statue.

"Ah great, you are dressed," Erik said as he spotted Raoul. "Are you ready to leave," he asked, gesturing towards the gondola. Raoul blinked, his mind refocusing, and nodded at Erik, following him onto the gondola.

As Raoul sat on the well sanded seats of the gondola, he noticed a large sack on the boat's floor.

"What's this?" Raoul said as his hands inched towards the sack's opening. His hand was quickly swatted away by Erik's, making his fingers involuntarily jump.

"You'll find out soon," Erik promised as he smirked at Raoul. He handed Raoul a lit candle and began to roe across the lake. After crossing the lake, Erik took the sack from Raoul and grabbed a torch, lighting the latter with Raoul's candle. They proceeded to climb the stairs up to the hallway outside Christine's mirror. Erik led Raoul to a door just next to the hallway's opening, the only light coming from Erik's torch. After passing many doors, the two finally stopped at a small ladder which led to a door. Erik pulled the key out of his pocket and climbed the ladder, a key in one hand and the torch in the other, leaving the sack with Raoul who simply held it. He wasn't able to see its contents in the darkness of the passageway without the torch anyways. Erik unlocked the door with and pushed it upwards, climbing into the room.

"Come up and bring the sack," he said. Raoul followed his command reluctantly, climbing the ladder up into the room, which Erik was walking slowly lighting. When Raoul arrived in the room, he was amazed yet again by the place Erik had brought him to.

The room was large and empty, with no furniture in it at all. Three of the walls were a pretty burgundy color, and carpeted floors. But what astounded Raoul was the one direction without a wall. He looked at it to see a near-perfect view of the stage and the orchestra section. Raoul would have dared to say that the view from the room nearly beat Box 5. He walked towards the unwalled space and saw that up close, there was a large glass window separating him from the stage.

"It's very nice don't you think?" Erik sweetly asked. Raoul said nothing, but simply nodded. Nice was definitely an understatement to describe the view, but Raoul was speechless at the sight before him. "An interesting thing to note is that the glass is darkened from the outside. We can see them, but they can't see us. Also, this portion is a reflection of the stage itself. This would be the top part of the stage, and that," he said, pointing more towards the window where there was a foot long drop that was five feet from the glass, "is based on the orchestra pit. I used to sit here when I first moved into the Opera House, before I became the Phantom of the Opera. The acoustics are pretty good for a nearly sealed area."

Raoul looked around the glass to see various small holes around the edges, no doubt used to bring air and sound to the room. Picking up the sack, Erik led Raoul to the pit like area of the room, taking out two cushions. Raoul sat down on one as Erik did the same.

"Did you design this place?" Raoul asked, tuning towards Erik.

"Yes. In fact, I played a large role in the construction of the Opera House. I worked very closely with Monsieur Garnier," he said as he thought back to the happy days of working on the Opera House. He put all of his blood, sweat, tears, and talent into the place. Thought there were many bumps along the way to its completion, Erik recognized the place as one of his greatest architectural achievements.

"That doesn't surprise me. This place is very reminiscent of you. It holds your style." He said absentmindedly as he gazed throughout the room and at the stage. He thought of Erik building the place piece by piece throughout the year, pouring all his energy into making sure the place was nothing less than perfect.

"Hm," Raoul mused as he looked to his watch. "It seems that we have a few hours left until the opera is scheduled to begin. What do you usually do to fill the time?"

"Usually, I read a couple of books to pass the hours, but since I did not bring any, would you like to play a game of cards, or perhaps some chess?" He reached into the bag and pulled out both a chess board with a box of pieces and a deck of cards.

"Do you play cribbage," Raoul asked. Erik then proceeded to shuffle and deal the deck as was necessary. They played a few rounds, enjoying the thrills of the competition that they received from each other.

"Raoul," Erik said as they finished another round. "I'm curious. What did you think of _Don Juan Triumphant?_"

Raoul pondered his answer momentarily. "To be honest, I found it to be very beautiful. The opera held so much emotion, such power and rage. It was unlike anything I've ever heard before. It's such an honest, cynical display of the human race and what they are willing to do to fill their sick desires. I've seen the deception that men go through with everyday and it very much like _Don Juan_."

Just as Erik thought the Raoul was done speaking, he continued as he layed his elbows on his laps, staring at the stage, as Erik stared at him. "Andre and Firmin probably won't ever perform _Don Juan Triumphant _again, I'm sorry to say." Erik sighed. He was quite aware that his life's work was more likely than not doomed to fade into obscurity, never to be heard from again. "It's a shame actually. I think that it should be performed more. I think it would be a good chance for these so called "civilized and dignified high society men" should see the horrors that they truly are."

Erik eyes widened. He obviously wasn't prepared for Raoul's admiration nor understanding of _Don Juan Triumphant_. It was if Raoul had hit every key idea of Erik's piece. Though he knew that the boy was intelligent, he had know idea that he could grasp the complex and dark concepts of _Don Juan Triumphant _so well, and only after not even an entire viewing. He had expected him to say something along the lines of that it was too cynical or too bitter for his taste and that he should have produced something more light hearted and fake like anyone else of his class would think. And he surely hadn't expected anyone to be able to relate the story to their lives, and if anyone **certainly **notRaoul. He had expected a pampered Vicomte to have no idea of the horrors of society.

Could Raoul truly understand him?

Erik pulled out the chessboard next and proceeded to put the various pieces in play. The two played several exceptionally long games of chess. Though Erik won them all, Raoul did not play too badly and at times, even posed a threat. After their fifth game, they laid back against the wall to watch the opera house quickly fill up with high society people wearing various tuxedos and dresses of all assortments. They saw the lights of the chandelier dim as the orchestra prepared their instruments.

"Pay close attention to the violin part during the overture, Raoul," Erik whispered into the Vicomte's ear. Thinking this as an important part of his lessons, Raoul nodded and sat up, observing the violinists use of technique throughout the overture, making mental notes when he felt them appropriate. As Raoul studied the violinists, Erik spread his arms out across the top of the foot long wall, making himself comfortable. Once the overture finished, Raoul joined Erik against the wall, falling into his right arm. His arm was very muscular, and Raoul felt a strange sense of security within its confines.

As the opera proceeded, the two found themselves laughing heartily nearly all the time at both the opera's copious amounts of comedy and at the awfulness of most of the leads' voices. Of course, Carlotta playing the lead role as Cecchina was horrible as she belted out high notes that the two of them were convinced should not be possible to sing and continued to make absolutely no effort to act. However, the understudies for senor Piangi and Christine, playing the marquis of Conchiglia and Lucinda, respectively, were not much of an improvement. Raoul and Erik found it simply hilarious how Andre and Firmin could have ever hired them. Surely, the famous Garnier Opera Populaire could find better performers than these to be their stars.

By the end of Act 1, Erik was laughing to the ceiling and Raoul was laughing into Erik's right shoulder, both tearing up from their extraneous laughter. The two could barely talk as they tried to catch their breath and compose themselves. The audience had been dismissed for a short intremission before the next two acts began. After finally finding the strength to stop laughing and compose himself, Erik grabbed his bag and took out two glasses and a bottle of wine.

"Care for a glass of wine Raoul," he asked, holding an empty glass in his hand. Raoul graciously accepted, and Erik poured two glasses, his right arm momentarily leaving Raoul's shoulders before returning with the glass and relaxing in its former spot again.

"A toast to comedy?" Erik asked, holding his glass up with his left hand.

"To comedy," Raoul replied, smiling as his glass met with Erik's.

As the last two Acts proceeded, the pair still found themselves laughing at everything the managers both intentionally and unintentionally put on stage, but to a more controlled extent.

In the middle of the second Act, Erik heard Raoul's teeth shatter, and noticed the boy's arms enclose into his body. Erik removed his cape from his tuxedo and proceeded to gently place it over Raoul's shoulders. This act went nearly unnoticed by Raoul, who was too busy laughing to feel the cape surround his body.

Raoul only took notice of the cape's presence on his back in Act 3. The two leads were singing a light romantic song. Raoul blushed for a reason that he could not understand and pulled the cape closer to his body for warmth. He wanted to ask Erik of why he had given him his cape, but time had taken its toll on the boy and he found himself too tired to even talk. He fell into a calm sleep soon after, falling unintentionally deeper into Erik's side.

Only when Erik attempted to get up after he was certain that most everyone had cleared out of the Opera House did he feel the weight to his right side and took notice of the Vicomte sleeping in his arm. He wanted to wake up the boy and get him to help walk back downstairs, but he looked at Raoul and had trouble doing so. He was sleeping so peacefully and had a beautiful smile on his face. Erik forced himself to the hard and awkward task of carrying the boy home.

He put Raoul over his shoulder, holding a torch and his bag in his hands, as he climbed down from the room and into the darkened hallway. He walked down the stairs and place Raoul and the sack on the seat of the gondola as he rowed home. After arriving on the shore of the lake, he blew out the torch and carried Raoul back to their room bridal style. He placed Raoul on his bed and lightly shook his head to wake him.

Raoul's eyes opened very reluctantly. "How did we get back here," he asked as he examined the room.

"I brought you back here of course. Now go and get into your sleepwear. You obviously look exhausted." Raoul didn't need to be told twice and proceeded to go into the closet, as Erik changed into his sleepwear.

"Thank you Erik." Raoul said as he laid down in bed. "Thank you for the lovely day."

"You are most certainly welcome Raoul. Good night."

"Good Night Erik." The two smiled recapping the great evening they shared together as the drifted off into joyous slumbers.


	5. Compassion in the Dark

**Disclaimer: I (sadly) don't own Phantom of the Opera. **

**Mega Credit to dreamsherry as always for Left In Darkness!**

**Please Keep on Reviewing! I love hearing all your thoughts!**

Erik rubbed his eyes as he awoke from his sleep and removed his unmasked face from the surface of his comfortable pillow. He looked at a clock straight across from him, which read 2:15 AM. He sighed. It was hours before Erik's usual wake up time of 8:30 and all he wanted to do was get some sleep. He returned his weary head to the pillow's soft surface and closed his eyes, trying to coax himself into falling back to sleep. Suddenly, he heard a loud chattering noise from out of his left ear. His eyes shot open as he examined the room for the source of the annoying sound, his right ear now chorusing it as he removed his tired head from his pillow once more. Fortunately, with a simple tilt of his head to the left, Erik found his answer.

There, Raoul was sleeping on the other side of the darkened room. His teeth chattered, revealing themselves as the source of the noise plaguing his companion's sleep. Driven by curiosity, Erik walked to the younger man's bed quietly, careful not to wake him.

Raoul's eyes were closed tightly and he was clutching to the warmth of his blanket, for what seemed like dear life. Quietly, Erik took his thumb and pointer finger and felt the material of Raoul's comforter.

His eyes had widened as he felt the comforter. It was a thin, flimsy piece of cotton that was barely capable of holding any warmth. No wonder the boy was so cold! Erik slapped his forehead. Surely, he thought that he had supplied Raoul with something more suitable than this rag to keep himself warm throughout the winter.

And the cold, late January weather was doing nothing to help him out. This winter had promised to be a very cold one from the start, and so far it had delivered. Erik's home under the Opera House always got the worst of Mother Nature's cruelty. Temperatures here could go as low as the single digits. Even Erik, who had been relatively accustomed to the cold weather of his underground home, occasionally got cold in his lair. How could he expect Raoul to stay warm when all he was provided was a paper thin, sad excuse for a blanket? This was Raoul's first winter down here, but under these circumstances he'd be dying of pneumonia within a week. He touched Raoul's silk-like skin, which now felt like he was touching pure ice, and nearly felt like pulling his hand back for the chilling sensation it gave off. He then put the same hand over Raoul's forehead to feel for signs of an ailment. Finding none, he gave off a sigh of relief. _Good, _he thought. _I got here just in time._

Without another thought, Erik picked Raoul up bridal style and put him on the opposite side of his bed that he was using previously, tucking his cold body under the comforter. As Erik moved back to his side of the bed, he heard the effectiveness of his treatment. Raoul chattering and shivers had stopped altogether and he could hear the relaxing sound of his light snores. Erik smiled, feeling proud of himself, and laid back down on his side of his bed. He gently closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.

A few hours later, Raoul had drifted out of his sleep, releasing a yawn. He had felt warmer and more comfortable than he had on previous nights. He felt the materials of his bed with his fingers. However, it was very different from the comforter that he had grown accustomed to over the past 12 days. This comforter that now surrounded his body was much bigger and stronger than the one that he had been using previously. As he opened his eyes to examine the situation, he saw Erik's face sleeping soundly, only a foot from his own. He gasped, not in horror, but in surprise. What had he been doing here? He was quite positive that last night he had fallen asleep in his own bed? He could easily infer that Erik had something to do with it, but wondered what… or why.

"Erik," he called out. "Erik?" After getting no response, he shook Erik's right shoulder and called out his name again. It seemed to do the trick, as Erik rose from his sleep, looked at the clock, and then back to Raoul. He massaged the brim of his nose with his fingers.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" He asked, with a blank expression on his face, and a lightly annoyed yet somewhat playful tone in his voice.

"Why am I in your bed?" Raoul blurted out, not answering Erik's question.

"Maybe you just love spending time with me," he replied sarcastically, as he smirked at the Vicomte.

"Erik," Raoul exasperatedly groaned.

"Fine, fine," he chuckled. "I woke up a few hours ago and your teeth were chattering and your skin was cold as ice. So I brought you to my bed so that you could get warm." Erik's answer was very simple. His intentions seemed to be nothing more than good. Raoul couldn't help softly smile at the deed.

"Thank you. You shouldn't have," Raoul said.

"This is your first winter down here, and you're clearly not used to it. It's understandable, as it's much colder down here than in most places. The winter's not even halfway over, and the temperature is only expected to get worse. I can see now that I provided you inadequately for the winter," He said as he pointed to the blanket on Raoul's bed.

"Erik," Raoul protested. "I'm fine. Really. I just got a little chilly, that's all."

"If you keep using that flimsy little thing as a blanket, you'll be bedridden with pneumonia or the flu in a matter of days. So I've decided that until the winter's end as well as all other future winters, you will stay in my bed."

"Erik, you really don't have to-" Raoul started, but was quickly interrupted.

"I won't hear of it Raoul. Look, I'm not completely in love with the idea of you sharing my bed either, but I'll be damned if you get sick due to your own stubbornness and I end up having to nurse you back to health. It's only until the end of the winter anyways."

Raoul nodded, not knowing much else to do. Erik had made perfect sense in his argument. Though it was an awkward arrangement, he knew that Erik was only doing it for his protection. It was actually rather endearing when Raoul thought of it. No one that he had ever known, except for perhaps Christine would have ever taken his well being into consideration. Anyone else would have simply ignored his shivers and left him to freeze.

Not having anything else to say, the two returned to their individual sleeps.

* * *

The next evening, Raoul found himself awake in the middle of the night once more. He blinked his eyes sleepily several times. As he gathered himself into consciousness, he began to hear Erik's voice from the other side of the bed. However, the man's usually calm voice was now holding a sense of urgency, as he gave off whispers of fear.

"No! Stop! No! Please!"

Raoul quickly turned to face Erik as he looked in horror at the man's position. He was tossing and turning in his sleep and his eyes were shut tightly. He was sweating and he held his arms close to his body, his fists constantly clenching and unclenching. His voice got louder, as he let out cries of terror.

"Let me go! Leave me alone! I beg of you!"

Raoul's heart began beating rapidly as he began to imagine what horrors Erik's nightmare was bringing him. Whatever Erik was dreaming of, it definitely was not in the least bit pleasant.

"Go away!" Erik shouted, as his body subconsciously moved away from Raoul.

"No!" Erik screamed, the loudest of his pleas. He placed arms defensively over his face, as a child would do as a reflex to avoid being harmed.

Unable to stand another second of Erik in this condition, Raoul grabbed and shook his arm and stomach, using all the strength that his arms could muster.

"Erik! Erik," Raoul cried with concerned eyes "Wake up! Wake up! It's me, Raoul!"

Erik let out a frightened gasp as he opened his eyes to meet Raoul's. He was panting as if he had just run a mile. His heart was beating rapidly and constantly, as if it were a sped up metronome. Drips of sweat ran down his face.

"Erik," Raoul said, concern across his blue eyes. "Are you okay?"

Erik looked to Raoul, his eyes still full of worry and fear from his nightmare. "I had a nightmare of when I was caught by gypsies when I was a child. It's…it's" Erik tried to continue his sentence in hopes of dismissing Raoul's worries about him. However, flashbacks, one by one of his nightmare kept popping up in his head, returning to his mind. Before he knew it, he was breaking down into tears, crying into Raoul's chest.

Raoul, looking over the scene, couldn't help but feel very bad for Erik. He knew that Erik had gone through many awful things in his life due to his deformed face. The teasing alone probably caused Erik more emotional trauma than one could ever possibly imagine. Erik however, usually acted as if the events had never occurred to him. He had probably never cried in front of another person like this, and must have been terrified of whatever he thought that Raoul might do to him.

Raoul crept his right hand from underneath the covers of the bed, and slowly collided with Erik's right hand, holding it firmly. Raoul's left hand, in the meanwhile, had been in Erik's hair, rubbing his scalp since he woke up. He hummed softly, trying to help the crying man relax.

Confused, Erik looked up to face Raoul, tears still surrounding his golden eyes. He had expected Raoul to push him away and lead him back into his awful abyss of solitude. These were the reactions that he'd grown used to. That was his normal.

"When I used to have nightmares as a child, my brother used to do this to me to help me sleep. I was hoping that maybe it would have the same effect on you" Raoul said as he sheepishly smiled, answering Erik's unspoken question.

With the exception of one time when Erik was five years old, Erik had never been comforted after a nightmare in his whole life. Out of habit, Erik had expected to be hit on the head or slapped, not have his hand held and his scalp rubbed. To him, those were comforts that belonged to normal people, a league that he thought he would always be alienated from.

And here was Raoul. Allowing him into that far off distant league, if only for one evening. _Thank you Raoul_, he thought. _Thank you. This means more to me than you will ever know._

Erik returned Raoul's smile and returned to the comforting embrace. Raoul allowed Erik to continue to hold his hand as Erik fell back to sleep, with Raoul following soon afterward.

* * *

**A/N: Prepare for some intense stuff in the next chapter! Keep reading to see what happens. Some news before we go:**

**1. Sorry for the lack of updates lately. I've been applying to colleges lately and am taking some intense classes at school. But fear not! I have made a promise that this fic ****will**** be completed. And if you guys are waiting to read the next chapter, feel free to bug me about it by either review or through my inbox. Believe me, this is ****not ****sarcastic and it ****will ****be appreciated. I tend to procrastinate at times so any nagging is a good thing for me. If I know that people**** want to read the story, than I'll be more motivated to work on it as often as I can. **

**2. I decided to start titling these chapters. As you can see above, this chapter is called Compassion in the Dark. So I decided to title the earlier chapters too, as well as give some insights as to why I chose them. **

**Chapter 1: Surprises (The decisions that Christine and Erik make in this chapter, at least to Raoul, seem to justify the title)**

**Chapter 2: The First Day (Not much to be said)**

**Chapter 3:**** Discoveries and Forming Bonds (Erik and Raoul learn a lot about each other in this chapter and they become start to develop a friendship of sorts)**

**Chapter 4: Connecting Over the Arts (Not much to be said about this either. Also, feel free to call this chapter Lovers of the Arts)**

**Chapter 5: Compassion in the Dark (Seems pretty self-explanatory as both the deeds that Raoul and Erik do for each other are primarily motivated by compassion and both scenes take place at night)  
**

**Okay, see you soon! Keep on reading and reviewing! **


	6. Face of a Dark Past

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera. **

**Quick story before we begin. Last weekend, I cosplayed as the Phantom himself at the New York Comic Con/Anime Festival. It was so cool! I even made a homemade deformity out of watercolor paints that turned out surprisingly well! **

**Much credit still owed to dreamsherry!**

**This chapter will have references to the Kay version for reasons that you'll see below, but I promise no major spoilers and I'll try to keep it in canon to the best of my abilities with the ALW musical. Consider this like a weird mix of the two versions if you will.**

**Now let's get started!**

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Though Raoul had hoped that his friend's nightmare would be the only of its kind, it seemed that hope was not on the boy's side, as Erik's nightmares returned for the following evenings. Raoul would wake in the middle of the night to hear Erik shouting obscenities or pleas of mercy and cowering in his sleep. Raoul would wake him up and attempt to comfort his friend by holding his hand or humming to him softly.

While Raoul didn't mind doing all of this, he wanted to find a way to end the nightmares that caused Erik so much pain. He had tried asking Erik for a particular reason that he was getting nightmares, but he was just as clueless as to a potential reason.

Raoul spent days thinking of different ideas of how to end the nightmares, but dishelved them for one reason or another. It wasn't until three days after Erik's nightmares had begun that Raoul had found a potential solution. Strangely enough, the solution came from something Erik had told the boy weeks ago. While he wasn't entirely sure whether or not Erik would agree to the plan or if it would work at all, he figured that he had nothing to lose.

That night, Raoul waited for Erik to calm himself down enough after his most recent nightmare. He listened to Erik's breathing as it slowly turned from rapid panting to relaxed, smooth breaths. Once his breath had returned to normal, Raoul waited a moment in slight hesitation before he finally spoke.

"Erik?"

Erik, who was lying beside him, turned his face up to Raoul's. "Yes?"

"I think I may have an idea to end your nightmares," he said.

Erik couldn't help but look at the blonde in front of him in utter disbelief. "And how would you manage to do that?"

"I want you to tell me about your past. I want you to tell me as much as you recall from your birth until we first met." He said seriously.

He looked at the boy incredulously and then looked down. Apart from some very rare exceptions, no one had ever asked Erik about his life. Everyone that Erik managed to make contact or form a relationship with simply left Erik's past to his discrepancy while they forged their own ideas. Didn't the boy know better than to ask him about it? Did he not know of all the dark secrets that it held?

_But most importantly, _Erik thought. _Why did he care? _He turned back up to Raoul who was expectantly waiting a reply from the older man.

"Why do you think that me telling you my past will do anything to stop my nightmares? I hate to sound rude Raoul, but if anything, wouldn't speaking about my past only strengthen my nightmares rather than repelling them?" He asked, trying to hide his defensiveness.

"I originally felt that way too to be honest. But then I remembered something that you told me on my first day here. When I awoke from my nightmare, you told me that holding in your emotions never pays off in the long run. I think that if you talk about your past, you'll get a better understanding of it, and perhaps in turn, your nightmares will end."

"Do you think that it will work?" Erik asked.

"Though I'm not entirely sure," Raoul said admittedly, "I do believe that this is at least worth trying."

"And how do I know that you won't mock me with the secrets of my past?" Erik asked, only half-way seriously.

"I suppose that you'll just have to trust me," Raoul responded.

_Trust_. Such a term was so foreign to Erik. Nearly every time that he had given his trust to someone, they had broken it. He had **trusted **Christine not to pull of his mask but she did. He had **trusted **her not to leave him for the Vicomte and yet by their next encounter the two were engaged. And these were just Christine alone! He was starting to find it harder and harder to give anyone his trust.

But then he thought of Raoul. It may have been the sincere tone of his voice or the concerned look in his eyes, but something about him made Erik feel that he could trust the young man with anything. Raoul had proven himself over the 15 days he spent with Erik to be a smart, reasonable, and overall kind man.

Erik still worried though. What if he said too much about his past and ended up pushing Raoul away? They had just become friends and Erik didn't want things to become awkward between them. He had worked to remove that same awkwardness since Raoul had begun living here and did not want it to return. While he knew that eventually, he would have to reveal at least some of his past to Raoul, he had hoped that it would be a long time before he had to worry about it.

As Erik contemplated the whole ordeal, the two men laid in silence. Raoul patiently awaited Erik's answer for a couple of minutes before finally choosing to break the silence between them.

"So, will you do it?"

After a moment of hesitation, Erik solemnly replied, "Very well. I'll tell you everything. But if you don't mind, I would like to wait until morning. I'm still very tired."

"That's fine," Raoul answered. He repositioned himself back to a sleeping position and shut his eyes. Erik was about to attempt to argue once more, but decided against it and went to sleep beside his companion.

* * *

Erik got up that morning at his usual time of 8:30 AM. He didn't bother getting dressed with the exception of his white-half mask and proceeded to his desk. He spent a few minutes writing down a basic outline of the events of his life, from birth to the present as well as a couple of important details. As he wrote down the different phases of his life, he couldn't help but still retain some nerves about some of the more gruesome moments of his life. He quickly shook off his fears and studied the list to memory.

He stopped for a moment and shuddered. The Opera Houses' basement was dreadfully cold today, and Erik couldn't determine whether or not the blame rested on the cold winter weather or the task that his companion had put him up to. Either way, his teeth were softly chattering and he found himself rubbing his arms for warmth.

He then started day dreaming of different scenarios about how the day would go forth. In one day dream, Raoul started crying and begged Erik to stop talking half way through his life's story. In another, Raoul would all but stop talking to him completely after hearing about his past. In one day dream, Raoul actually accepted his past and didn't mind everything that happened.

That day dream was sadly interrupted as Raoul woke up. He looked at Erik and saw that he had failed to change out of his sleepwear. He shrugged and did the same. He figured that both men would want to be as comfortable as possible for today's events. The two proceeded to breakfast, eating in silence. As they finished their breakfasts, Raoul turned to Erik. Erik looked at Raoul, fully understanding that the blonde wanted to hear something, anything other than the wretched silence between them.

"Shall we take our discussion in the study?" Erik asked. He knew Raoul didn't care where they talked as long as they did. He only asked as a way to relax the mood between them.

"Yes," Raoul responded. "That would be fine."

"I'm going to make a pot of tea- it's rather cold today." Raoul nodded, as he had also taken the cold weather into account this morning. "Anyway," Erik continued, "feel free to wait for me in there." Without another word, Erik turned his back towards Raoul and began to fill up the empty tea kettle with water.

On his way to the study, Raoul stopped by his room. He took the comforter off of Erik's bed and proceeded to bring it with him. Once in the study, Raoul sat on the sofa and placed part of the large, white comforter on his lap. He listened as the tea kettle whistled. Erik arrived shortly after with the kettle in one hand and a tray of tea cups, tea bags, honey, sugar, milk, and coasters which he was amazingly able to balance in the other.

Raoul stood up. "Erik, why did you take all this stuff here all by yourself? I would have helped you."

"It wasn't a problem Raoul but –"

Before Erik could continue, Raoul had grabbed the tray out of Erik's hand and placed it down on the coffee table. Erik lost his train of thought at the sight of Raoul's gesture. He quickly closed and reopened his eyes and looked at Raoul.

"Thank you," Erik said, smiling at the kind act. The two sat down, wrapping themselves in the blanket Raoul brought, only about a foot apart from each other.

"I should warn you before we start Raoul," Erik started, his tone growing dark as he looked to the floor. "My past is anything but light-hearted. What I tell you will horrify you by the sheer description of some of the experiences I've had. Some of the things I've lived through… some of the things that I've done. You would never believe that they could have all happened over the course of one lifetime, but I assure you Raoul, they're all true."

"Rest assured Erik," Raoul said, looking towards Erik. "I know that you've gone through much in your life. From the time I've known you and based on what Madame Giry has told me alone, I'm aware that you've been a captive, a thief, a Phantom, a kidnapper, and a murderer." Raoul felt a ghastly chill as he uttered the word "murderer." Over the course of time that he'd spent with Erik, he'd let Erik's murderous history somehow slip through his mind completely. However, he was more assured than anything that Erik had put his murdering days behind him. He couldn't explain it, but for some reason, as early as his first day with Erik, he had a strange feeling of genuine safety in the Phantom's presence, and that included safety from death at his hands.

_All true, _Erik thought. _All true. _

"But I'm not letting that predetermine my views on you or your past," Raoul continued, as Erik looked up at him. "I want the real story of your past, as told from your eyes alone. I understand that you've been subjected to many abnormalities throughout your life, most of which you probably could not control. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not infallible though, but I can promise you that I'll try my best to look on your life story objectively."

"Thank you," Erik said, offering a small, yet sincere smile. He rested his elbows on his lap and his head on his hands, his left hand clutching the blanket. "So, where do I start?"

"I suppose the best place to start would be your birth and your childhood," Raoul replied simply.

"I'll avoid the… explicit details of my birth," he started in a lightly mocking tone while smirking at Raoul, who rewarded him by teasingly rolling his eyes, "but I was born in a castle in the small town of Boscherville."

Erik's tone grew more serious as he continued. "My mother was a beautiful woman, the daughter of an English woman and a French architect, born into a rich, comfortable family. However, her wealthy lifestyle had made her spoiled and unkind. When she first saw me, she was horrified by just the sight of my face. She had hoped for the perfect baby, and instead, got me. She and the nurses that gave birth to me, they all hoped that I would die as I did not release my first cries until hours after my birth. She was so scared that she didn't even want to name me. She instead, asked the priest to name me after himself. The first gift that she had ever given to me was my first white mask."

"And what of your father," Raoul asked.

"I don't know much about my father other than that his name was Charles and that he was an architect. He died in a construction accident mere months before my birth." _Probably for the better_, Erik couldn't help but think.

"After my birth, my mother was all but shunned from the overly religious town she lived in with the exceptions of my mother's dearest friend, Marie Perrault and the priest of whom I was named after, Father Mansart. The very attic that I was born in soon became my room.

However, from my birth, I was gifted with intelligence superior to any other child. From as early as my infancy, I showed strong signs of musical development. I had created rhythms out of bells that perched over my crib. By the age of four, I had learned to read and had nearly mastered the piano and the violin with the help of my mother. I had also taken a strong interest in architecture after finding my grandfather's library and would spend copious amounts of time fiddling with mechanical objects, clocks and such. I was very curious and strived for nothing more than learning more, no matter the expense. However, this also led to very irrational and poor behavior on my part. I had an awful temper which would arise whenever I was prevented from doing something, from learning something. That temper has followed me all throughout my life.

I did not celebrate my fifth birthday until I was 5 years old. My mother told me that we would have a special dinner and that Marie was bringing me a present. I asked if she would give me something and she was willing to comply until I told her exactly what I wanted."

"What did you ask her for," Raoul inquired. Erik's face seemed to have grown paler as he recalled the awful memory.

"Kisses," he replied faintly, staring at nothing in particular. "Two kisses. One for now and one to save. And she couldn't even bear herself to do that." Raoul looked at Erik, not with emotionless pity, but genuinely feeling bad for the man by his side. He had nearly forgotten that Erik had never received a kiss in his entire life. Raoul reached out his right hand on Erik's left shoulder and started to gently rub it.

"The day of my fifth birthday, I left my room without my mask for the first time in my life. My mother was so enraged with me, that she decided to teach me a lesson. She pulled me into the one room with a mirror and made me stare upon the horror of my face for the first time in my life." Erik moved his hand to the white mask, feeling the smooth surface of the porcelain. "Mother told me that my mask was my protection from the monster that lurked beneath it and to wear it at all times." Erik suddenly felt his mask being lifted from his face by a hand he knew very well belonged to Raoul.

"I figured you would be more comfortable without your mask," He said as he rested the porcelain mask on the coffee table. Erik gave him an understanding nod. He had been grateful that he would not have to wear the mask which represented so many lies to him, both to himself and to humanity as a whole.

"When I was eight," Erik continued, "my mother began to take a fancy to the village doctor. A handsome young man, not to mention a man of science and logic, he, unlike the rest of my wretched town did not shun my mother, and the two secretly started dating. When I expressed my dissatisfaction with their relationship, she told me she…she," Erik struggled to let the next word come out, as if saying it would be the very death of him.

"hated me, and wished for me to die," he said in a groggy voice. Saying those words seemed to exhaust him, as he did not speak for several minutes, looking at the ground, his hands surrounding his face. Raoul could hear him faintly crying out, "angel in hell," and from where he sat, the blonde could have sworn that the older man was on the very verge of tears. Raoul himself couldn't believe that Erik's mother would have the audacity to tell her own son that she hated him, horrible disfigurement or not.

"I'm sorry," Erik said, pulling himself together and turning to stare at Raoul. "Let me continue."

"Do you want to rest for a little bit?" Raoul abruptly asked. "You seem to be exhausting yourself, and we can continue later if you want."

"No thank you, I'll be alright. Sorry for that, I've… I had a rough childhood," he said, forcing a small smile towards the Vicomte. Erik started speaking again, quickly gaining back his composure.

"I was quite the master of illusion at the age of eight. I could make anything disappear, reappear, move without a visible force, and so much more. That led me to pull many ticks on my mother and Marie. One day, after she had returned home from a date with the doctor, I had pulled a trick on her, and she threatened to put me into an asylum if I did not stop, saying that if I was gone she could marry the doctor. In an attempt to bring my mother away from the doctor, I used my ventriloquism to make her believe that a statue in the house was a baby, but not just any baby. No, this baby was the one she always wanted, normal, perfect innocent.

One day, I had taken Sasha out of the house after she kept distracting me from the piano. When I came to let her back in, a horrible sight befell me. Some of the villagers had seen her, and recognized her as my dog. They began beating her. I left the house and tried to fight them off, but they began beating me, calling me "monster" and the "devil's son." They had killed my precious Sasha, and nearly killed me. The doctor had luckily came by my house and saved my life, patching up my wounds and giving me something to help me sleep. He then asked my mother to put me into an asylum and marry him. I had assumed that she had accepted, but it would be many years before I would know her true response because as soon as I awoke, I ran away from home, allowing my mother to live the happy life that she so wanted and to forget me.

About a week after I had run away, I had came across a tent in the woods. The tent had belonged to gypsies. I hadn't eaten since I left home, so understandably I was hungry. I tried to steal some food but winded up getting caught by a crowd of the scoundrels. They surrounded me and yelled at me to take off my mask. When I refused, they began to crowd me for my mask, ignoring my pleas for them not to. I **begged **them to stop Raoul," he said, his voice quickly growing in intensity, his muscles tensing up. Raoul almost backed away in fear, but forced himself to stay put. "But they would have none of it. Someone eventually got hold of my mask and ripped it off my face without a moment's consideration." Suddenly, Erik's voice deepened, an overwhelming sense of worthlessness overshadowing him. "Like everyone else in my miserable life, they looked at my face only in horror."

"The band of gypsies beat until I was unconscious. When I awoke, I felt iron bars as I tried to grab my mask. I quickly realized that I was being put in the most inhumane circumstances. I had been locked up in a cage. I've always hated cages, Raoul. I've come to recognize anything that limited me in anyway as a terrible creation. Outside of my cage, gypsy kids were poking me, not even bothering to give me a name but calling me an **it**! I was a little boy, and yet because of my face I did not deserve the basic human right of being recognized as a person."_ An IT, _Raoul thought, anger filling his blue eyes. _What is wrong with these people? He's a nine year old boy! Not an animal!_

"For a few moments, I wondered if this was where I was supposed to live out my days. I already looked like a monster, so why shouldn't I be treated like a monster to match?"

"You're wrong Erik," Raoul interrupted in a stern voice. "You're not a monster, you're a human being. And no human being deserves to spend his life in a cage." _Oh Raoul, _Erik thought. _While you are indeed a kind man, easily above the norms of your high class society, I must question your sanity sometimes. How can you look upon me and not label me as a monster as all the rest do?_

_Yet somehow he does. _

"Thank you Raoul," Erik said. He suddenly felt his body move closer to the blonde, driving the man to nearly blush.

"As I was saying," Erik continued, "the children were stopped by the man who I would soon come to know as the vilest, cruelest man on the face of this God-forsaken Earth. That man was known as Javert. He was a tall fat man with an equally fat face and an eternal, merciless glint in his eyes. He would become my master, interested in only the boatloads of money that people would pay to see my face. He named me the Living Corpse, and even had a coffin put in my cage to add effect to my presentation. The strange thing is," Erik said, giving off a dark chuckle, "Javert was the primary inspiration for Don Juan Triumphant. He had often called me a Don Juan as a cruel nickname." Raoul was unsurprised. It seemed almost common sense to assume that the origins of Erik's greatest masterpiece would stem from one of the many dark roots of his past.

"As I spent more and more time in that blasted cage, I began to feel detached from humanity. My master fed and treated me like an animal as the days to my premier were coming upon us. I tried to hide my face from the crowds, God knows I tried, but Javert had men come and bound me to the bars of my cage. Whenever I tried to break out of my cage, it was not as a calculated young man, but more like a wild animal. I'd spend most of my time thinking of punishments for Javert and those who dared to laugh at my face. This seemed to be my only escape from the horrible reality that was my life. By that time, I hardly considered myself to be on the same level as the lowly human race.

After a few years, I had started to worry that I would be spending my whole life in that cage, never to walk as a free man again. Then one evening, a miracle occurred. The gypsies were traveling in Paris and I was put on display for my nightly show. As I looked out into their laughing faces, I saw one girl in the front of the crowd who wasn't laughing. She was looking at me with a mix of pity and empathy on her face, gently holding onto a bar of my cage. After my display closed for the night, she returned with the key to the cage in hand. Just as we were running from the cage, Javert grabbed hold of me. I punched him in the face to get free and I took a knife from his pocket. Knowing that at this point, it was either his life or mine, I quickly grabbed the knife and stabbed him in the chest until I was certain he was dead. It was the first time I had ever murdered someone. I proceeded to run, following the girl into the woods."

"The girl who helped you Erik," Raoul interrupted. "It was Madame Giry, correct?"

"Yes. She couldn't have been any older than 13 when we met that night. She offered me a place to stay for the night, but I turned it down, not wanting her to get hurt on my account in the same manner as my sweet Sasha had been. Still, she had been persistent and put her address in the pocket of my trousers, telling me to find her one day should I ever need her help. Like a gentleman, I politely agreed and went on my way.

I traveled around Europe, occasionally singing and performing magic with traveling fairs for a few years before I found myself in Rome. I met a man by the name of Giovanni, a well respected stonemason. After finding me on the grounds of one of his worksites, he took me in and I became his apprentice in the art of masonry. He took me on all of his jobs, and protected me from all who sought to make fun of me or provoke me for my mask. He also let me stay in the cellar of his home, as to allow me all the privacy and space I desired. He also was the only person I had ever known who was not curious enough about my face as to ask me to remove my mask. Yes, I could tell that he was indeed curious, but he was courteous enough to keep it to himself. Never before was I treated so… humanely. He had become almost a father figure to me.

However, in the summer, his daughter Luciana came to his home from a convent school in Milan. Her presence made me feel uncomfortable and awkward, yet she seemed to have some strange affection for me. I chose to avoid her as she made advances on me. She was interested in the mystery of my mask, and not in my personality and skills. One day, she came into the cellar and broke all the machines I had been building there after I refused to tell her how they worked. That night, Luciana came up to the roof and demanded that I remove my mask. I looked to Giovanni, hoping that he would once again stand up for me like he had so many times before. However, he told me that I needed to remove my mask, even if it meant that he had to order me to do it. The pain I felt Raoul, the silent suffering that came with knowing that the man who I came to love almost as a father betraying my trust was unlike anything you could ever imagine.

When I tore the mask off my face, the girl was so afraid that she carelessly walked backwards and fell off the roof, plummeting to her death. Not willing or able to accept the consequences of killing my master's favorite daughter, I immediately left Giovanni's home, never to return.

A few years later, while I had been performing in Russia, I had been approached by Nadir Khan, a daroga from Mazanderan in Persia. He had told me that the Shah had come to know of my exceptional talents and wished for me to perform there. I had to the daroga's request and we, along with a single slave that he brought set out for Mazanderan. Since I desired privacy, I demanded that we set off for the Persian city on foot, much to Nadir's chagrin. I had turned a journey of a few days into a journey of weeks, yet I always strived to make the journey as interesting as possible. I would tell stories, sing, perform magic, and much more for my traveling companions every day.

When we finally arrived in the city, I had stayed in Nadir's home, and there, I met his son Reza. Reza had been cursed with a terrible illness that was already depriving the boy of his eyesight and would eventually take his life. I made the boy toys and performed magic for him. The smallest smile from that boy would be all I ever needed to be content with my day. When we went to see the Shah, he was quite impressed with my abilities. The Shah had me build him a palace full of traps and secrets as well as providing him with regular entertainment with my music and my logic. His mother, the Khanum in the meantime, had used me for torturing prisoners, and sometimes innocent people."

"How?" Raoul asked.

"She had me devise all sorts of strange traps and torture devices. She had a strange fascination, almost an obsession, with watching the various ways that a person could die. It was almost scary, yet I had no choice to comply, otherwise I would surely be killed as a substitute. What I found even creepier was her strange attraction to me, both with and without my mask.

For many years, I worked to please the Shah and the Khanum, with my only happiness deriving from the daroga and his son. As I entertained his son, I would take comfort and relaxation in his laugh. As for Nadir and I, we had grown a strong bond over the time that I had stayed with him. We would play chess or tell stories to each other most every night and he never looked upon my face with fear or disgust. I soon came to regard Nadir as nothing less than my closest friend." Erik gave off a soft smile.

"We soon found out that Reza had but two short months to live." Erik's voice soon turned glum and dark. "I worked every day to make those last two months the best that he had ever lived. I showed him every illusion. I sang him every song. I did all I could to make his life truly beautiful. When the time came, I asked Nadir for permission to give his son a painless death by poison. After much hesitation and arguing, he agreed to my request. Never before had I felt such terrific guilt at killing someone."

"It wasn't your fault Erik." Raoul pressed. "The boy was ill and you did what was best for him."

"I know Raoul," Erik sighed. "But just knowing that I sealed the fate of the beautiful child attacked me for weeks. For days, I barely ate or slept. I almost couldn't bring myself to face Nadir, but stayed with him, as to assuage his grief.

After I had finished construction of the Shah's palace, he had ordered Nadir to arrest me on the charges of treason. However, Nadir brought me out of the sights of Mazanderan and gave me instructions to get out of Persia. Nadir had concocted a plan where he would place a dead body wearing my cloak and mask out in the visible eye of the Shah's men and he would say that I had broken free from his captivity using my magical abilities. After giving him some stolen jewels to thank him, we parted ways. We've still kept in contact through occasional letters, but I haven't seen him since that day.

I returned to my childhood home in Boscherville soon after my adventures in Persia. I wanted to burn down the place that caused me such misery and woe from the Earth forever. However, as I approached the entrance to the house, I found a much older Marie Perrault in the garden. She had told me that my mother had died three days prior to my return and revealed to me the truth that I had blinded myself from all those years ago. It seemed that my mother had rejected the doctor's proposal on the night of Sasha's death and instead spent the rest of her life alone, with only Marie's company, in the house, and that I had run away for nothing.

It was that same night where I had discovered news of another event that would forever alter my life. It was on that night that I had learned of plans to construct the Paris Opera House via a contest. Unfortunately, since I was not one to read newspapers, I was not aware of the contest, and sadly, could not enter in a design. However, I decided that I owed it to myself to at least play a role in the construction of the most glorious site in France.

The next morning, I set off a Paris. Because of my mask, I was only able to take up lodging in an apartment where the landlords were too engrossed in my money to ask me to leave. I wrote a letter to Charles Garnier, telling him my exact thoughts on his designs for the Opera House as well as a bribe. He agreed to see me and I offered to give him extra funding for the Opera House. Though I was on the verge of leaving after much arguing, Monsieur Garnier called me back. He had handed me some designs which I quickly recognized as my own."

"Wait," Raoul said, stopping Erik's story once more. "You told me that you lived in near isolation throughout your childhood. How did he get your designs?"

"Ah yes," Erik exclaimed as if recovering a memory. "I don't know how I forgot to mention this. You see Raoul, when I was a child, my skills in architecture were so grand that Father Mansart showed my designs to a well respected architect, Professor Guizot. He tutored me from home for some time due to fear of exposing my face to the crowds. Anyway, my professor had given some of my childhood designs to Garnier, saying that I was one of the single greatest architects to ever live.

After making this revelation, Garnier accepted me as his absolute partner on the project with no further questions. We worked every day on the Opera House. I would secretly construct all sorts of passageways and entrances all around the Opera House for my use alone as well as anyone who was smart enough to find them. One day, we found out that due to the rising ground water levels, a lake had to be created under the Opera House, so we used pumps to bring the water down to the fifth cellar. Put in charge of the project, I started observing the fifth cellar and became interested in the space, privacy, and potential that it provided. Eventually, I started designing what is now our home, unbeknownst to everyone, even Garnier. I would spend many nights constructing the various rooms and the gondola.

As I was returning to my apartment one evening after a busy day of work, I ran into a much older Madame Giry. She saw my mask as we were walking past one another on a bridge and instantly recognized me. When I told her of my plans in Paris, she invited me to move into her home. I tried to argue against the idea but she would simply not let up until I finally agreed to move in. Once there, I met Madame Giry's daughter Meg, who was only seven at the time. She presented me to her daughter as a long lost friend and I stayed with the two for a few years until I completed my underground home was completed.

After the Opera House officially opened, I began to run into multiple problems. I realized that my once extravagant fortune had now dwindled to only half of what it once was. I needed a new means of money. I also realized that something had to be done concerning the managers' musical decisions, which to say the least, were, and still are, horrible. After much thought, I created the guise of the Phantom of the Opera. If the manager's could not make the Opera House successful by themselves, I would scare and threaten them into making it, and all the while gathering profits from my "services,"" Erik said, a smirk growing on his face.

"With Madame Giry delivering my notes to the managers, and Meg filling the Opera House with rumors about me, I was assured a safe life under the Opera House to commit to science and music.

While lonely, save for the few visits from Madame Giry, I was content with my life, and lived in such a manner for several years. I had expected my life at that point to remain the same for the remainder of my life, quietly working in the shadows of those who loathed me. Than one day, I was walking through the secret passageways of the Opera House, preparing to mess with the scenery of the latest opera after the managers failed to follow my casting ideas. The Opera House was nearly abandoned as I prepared to set up my traps.

Suddenly, I heard a female's voice coming from a nearby dressing room. Led by curiosity, I followed the voice as it became clearer and clearer. She was singing! Silently, I approached the dressing room through one of my passageways until only a small layer of glass separated me from the room as I pressed my ear against it." Raoul did not need to be told anymore to easily determine of whom Erik was referring to. Raoul knew very well of the history that Christine had with her Angel of Music. And as much as Raoul didn't need to hear Christine's name, Erik didn't feel the need to say it. He knew the younger man was smart enough to understand just what he was talking about.

"She was so young, and yet she had the voice of an angel. Though she still had a lot to learn, she had all the potential in the world, and I was ready to give her all of it. I took the guise of her Angel of Music, and began to teach her all I could, all I was worth.

It was if my prayers were answered from heaven. She was so kind in her naivety, or so it seemed. I could only hope that I could teach her to love the man under the guise of my mask."

Erik's voice started to get weaker as he started to release sobs. "Never," Erik spoke between sobs, "did I ever think… that she would… betray me. I've always been alone, perhaps not in company, but in mindset… I thought she was the one who could take away my pain and loneliness."

Erik tensed up. "But NO! The second she saw me, she started to loathe me. Just like everyone else." Erik paused for a moment to calm himself down, bitter tears dripping down his face.

"My whole life, nobody's ever wanted to be around me. They liked small social interactions, but nothing more. And anyone who I was able to forge a relationship with I was forced to leave or distance myself from for one reason or another. It's… it's unfair." He covered his face with his hands and turned his body away from Raoul, and began sobbing again.

"All I've ever wanted," he whispered half-heartedly in between sobs, "was for someone to stay with me. For someone to say, "you never have to be alone again Erik. I'll be with you for as long as you want me to stay." And then for them to actually mean it and stay. It's far more than I'll ever deserve, but I wish for nothing more than it. I sometimes dream about it, and waking up crying because I know it will never happen to me."

Erik stopped talking and surrendered fully into his tears. Raoul couldn't help but look over the whole scene in pure awe. What Erik had been through in his existence had been so unbelievably awful. Raoul could not even fathom another word for it. Erik's life had been filled with so many instances of irony, misunderstandings, prejudice, and cruelties. And at the end of this trail of misfortunes was a sad, lonely man who longed for a basic, stable human companionship. Yet the world felt the need to deny him that at every possible turn. How could such a smart, talented, and sympathetic man be both tortured and ignored by society due to one simple flaw? To Raoul, it seemed so unfair.

_Why can't they see him for who he truly is?_ Raoul asked to no one in particular.

Raoul began to slowly move his arms towards Erik, who was unaware of the action. Raoul then pushed his arms under Erik's and before Erik could react, gently pulled him into a hug. Raoul's embrace was firm and warm, and Erik had no interest in pulling from it. Instead, he curdled towards the embrace, returning it. He moved his hands from his face onto the Vicomte's back, now crying into Raoul's shirt.

Erik stayed absolutely still in the hug Raoul was giving him. He had never felt such a nice embrace before, and had no desire for it to end. His ice cold skin seemed to be melting by the Vicomte's much warmer skin.

Suddenly, he felt Raoul silently pull from the embrace that he was treasuring so dearly. _Please Raoul, _he thought. _Don't leave yet. I just want to enjoy this for a little longer_. Instead, Erik felt his neck crook down as the younger man was still partially in his arms.

Raoul looked at Erik's forehead. He wanted to show Erik that indeed someone did care about him. However, he could not find it within himself to tell Erik the phrase that he so desperately yearned to hear. After all, he still was planning on leaving Erik's home at the nearest chance. Yet, he wanted to give some gesture to show him that he was not alone.

After a moment's hesitation, Raoul pulled Erik's forehead close to him, and gently bestowed a single kiss upon it.

Erik gasped at the action, his body stiffening. The kiss itself was simple and quick, but it held all the meaning in the world to Erik. As Raoul pulled himself fully back into the embrace, Erik looked at him, wondering the reasoning behind Raoul's action. Raoul gave a very tiny shrug as a response. Erik's golden eyes once again filled with tears, but they were no longer out of bitterness. Raoul suddenly felt a wet substance fall from not Erik's face, but his own.

"How come you are crying?" Erik asked.

"I…I don't know," Raoul answered, dumbfounded by the act as well. The pair remained silent afterwards, still holding their embrace, the blanket around the pushing them together even further. After a seemingly infinite amount of time, the two finally pulled from their hug. Neither man was hungry enough to bother making or eating dinner. After cleaning the study, the two walked back to their room, returning Erik's comforter to its rightful spot upon his bed. The two lay down and prepared to go to sleep, hoping that Raoul's plan would work. As Raoul lay on his back, facing the white ceiling, Erik turned to face him.

"Thank you Raoul." Erik didn't need to say anymore. Raoul looked to him and gave off a small smile and a nod. Erik smiled back at him before blowing out the candle that lit the room. Both drifted off to sleep, not knowing of what the night was to bring for them.

* * *

**And DONE!**

**WOOHOO! Over 7400 words! My longest fic ever I believe. This calls for a celebration! Virtual glasses of apple cider for everyone! **

**I hope you guys like it! Sorry for the not updating for nearly a month, but believe me, I tried working on this story as often as I could. I even considered splitting in half just so I could give you guys something, but I decided that it was better kept in one piece. **

**Please Read and Review! Reviews Make Me Happy! Did I mention review? **

**Sorry to sound annoying, but I've been really trying hard to make this story as good as possible and update as often as I can, and I'd love the reviews.**

**See ya next time! **


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